


An Act of Faith

by KatieHavok



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Adorable Newt Scamander, Auror work, BAMF Tina Goldstein, Bathing/Washing, Companions, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Death, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Post-Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Stress Relief, Tenderness, Understanding, compassion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 23:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16650346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieHavok/pseuds/KatieHavok
Summary: “You don’t need to tell me,” Newt murmurs while taking her hands. “Your face says it all. Please let me take care of you tonight, Tina.”*Tina comes home from a bust-gone-wrong, only to find solace in Newt's tender care.(Written prior to CoG and therefore contains no major spoilers.)





	An Act of Faith

*

Tina makes it home just after midnight, stumbling through the door to be greeted by a wide-eyed Newt.

He sets aside his book and snifter of brandy to cross the room to her, taking one look at her face before folding her into a hug. Tina sags into it, gratefully basking in his warmth and closeness and the scent of animals and laundry powder clinging to him.

Newt gently disentangles himself and touches her cheek before bending to loosen her sensible shoes. He tugs them off one at a time, taking a moment to kiss the instep of each foot before straightening. Her jacket and blazer are removed with the same gentle reverence, and she chews her lip nervously before opening her mouth to speak — only for him to cut her off with a gentle kiss.

“You don’t need to tell me,” Newt murmurs while taking her hands. “Your face says it all. Please let me take care of you tonight, Tina.”

Tina bows her head, pinching her eyes shut to hold back a flood of tears. Newt waits for her patiently, his hand a warm and constant weight on the small of her back until she looks up at him to nod. He kisses her temple in thanks before taking her hand, leading her across the room to the bright and fragrant sanctuary of his case.

Stepping into the suitcase does little to lift the weight of guilt off her shoulders as it usually does. She takes a deep breath of the earthy air, automatically parsing and ignoring the smell of dung by force of habit before following him out of the building. He takes her around to where the newest feature sits, a small cabin with rough wooden sides and a slate roof.

She knows he sleeps there most nights after she’s tucked his case into a corner of her living room, but she’s never been inside. Curiosity temporarily rouses her from her stupor, and she looks around with dull interest while stepping through the door. The single room boasts a wide bed covered with a faded quilt, a bathroom partitioned off with a silk screen, and a massive fireplace.

Tina inspects the small table and touches the gingham curtains as Newt ducks behind the silk barrier. He reemerges moments later with his braces hanging around his waist, and watches her despondently examining the photographs on the mantle (there’s one of them, smiling and vivacious and unmistakably happy with Newt’s arm slung comfortably around her waist; she can’t help but look away) before offering his hand.

She eyes it warily for a moment before deciding to take his offer on faith. His hand is warm and calloused around hers, and he shows a quick smile when she precedes him into the tiny bathroom. She focuses on the extravagantly floral ewer and basin when Newt turns the taps on the tub, adjusting the temperature by hand before lightly touching her shoulder.

“You need a bath,” he says softly and pushes her hair aside to kiss the nape of her neck. “And a massage if you’re comfortable with it. I promise you’ll sleep better once you’re relaxed, and things will seem much brighter come morning.”

“I’m not sure that’s even possible,” Tina mumbles, “but you’re welcome to try.”

Newt flashes an understanding smile before squeezing her hand and turning away. The scent of lavender and cedarwood fills the air when he adds a generous dollop of oil to the water, slicking the surface with a rainbow's sheen. A flick of his wand summons a stack of luxuriously fluffy bath towels and a washcloth, which he sets beside the basin before taking hold of her shoulders.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers and kisses her forehead when she thoughtlessly complies.

Tina feels the press and pull of his hands when he eases her blouse over her head and lays her locket aside. Her trousers follow, then her step-ins and bandeau brassiere. A calloused hand settles on the small of her naked back, another taking her elbow, and she opens her eyes when gentle pressure guides her the three steps to the bathtub, sinking into the water with a long, slow sigh.

The tub is deep enough to submerge her to her shoulders, the water temperature just this side of too hot. Her muscles relax instantly, fair skin turning a deep, rosy pink when she leans against the back of the tub to meet Newt’s patiently watching eyes and nod once.

He cups his hand to pour water over her shoulders and chest before leaning in to kiss her, fingers fanning along her jaw. His kiss is just as warm and languid as the bathwater, and she sighs into it as the stresses of the day slowly melt away. He breaks it off to bus her cheek before reaching for a bar of transparent soap and the washcloth.

His touch is light, almost diffident as he concentrates on each part of her body. She watches his face curiously when he slides the cloth along her back and shoulders, arms and chest before dipping into the fork of her legs and lower. He seems unaffected by both her proximity and the intimacy of bathing her, and his calm demeanor inspires her to relax even more until she’s almost boneless and giddy with his tender ministrations when he scrubs the soles of her feet and between her toes before adding another dose of oil and rinsing her off.

“You can join me, you know,” she murmurs after he wrings out the flannel and replaces the soap, watching him lazily. “I don’t mind. It would make washing my hair easier...”

Newt makes a noncommittal sound before standing. She tips her head back to watch him when he glances aside, a blush coloring his cheeks. “Are you sure you’d be comfortable with that?” he asks levelly. She nods, mouth suddenly dry, and Newt peers at her closely before shrugging. “My pants will stay on the whole time,” he promises while unbuttoning his shirt.

Tina discovers she can’t look away when he shrugs it off, allowing it to fall before reaching for the placket of his trousers. His bare chest and arms remind her of a well-used butcher’s block, scarred and battered but with infinitely more freckles. Lean, ropy muscles coil beneath his skin when he kicks off his trousers, white underpants flashing, and yanks off his socks. His legs are long and strong, and she focuses on his narrow, sturdy-looking feet while scooting forward, allowing him to climb into the tub behind her.

His legs bracket hers as he gets comfortable, before gingerly wrapping his arms around her waist. A gentle tug sees her reclining over his warm chest, infinitely more comfortable than the hard porcelain of the bathtub. Tina can feel his heart beating if she concentrates, the gentle contraction and expansion of his lungs. She closes her eyes as her breathing syncs with his, only to sigh happily when he cards his fingers through her hair.

Newt massages a handful of suds into her scalp before rinsing and slicking oil through her hair. His slippery touch naturally progresses into a deep neck and shoulder rub, finding and working out muscle knots she wasn’t even aware of until she slumps forward bonelessly, allowing him to access her lower back. Clever fingers eliminate the tension there too, and she is left as loose as a rag when Newt finally hooks an arm around her and tucks her into his embrace, fingertips swirling senseless shapes over hip.

Tina floats serenely in the space between breaths, mood buoyed by him and his tender ministrations when Newt presses his lips to the shell of her ear. “Feeling better?” he asks in the barest whisper, his breath stirring her hair. She manages an unformed sound of assent when he kisses her cheek before turning her in his arms, allowing her to hide her face in his neck. “Do you want to tell me what happened, then?”

She takes another moment to savor the warmth, the feel of his scarred skin against her cheek and forehead, before pummeling her way through the lassitude. His arms tighten around her as she forces herself back to full awareness, opening her mind and heart for a renewed flood of emotions — not all of them negative — before squeezing her eyes shut.

“I still don’t see why you _care_ ,” she says, unwilling to hide her distress at being reminded of things she’d sooner forget. “It’s Auror business and you’ve made it clear that you could _never_ understand my line of work.”

Newt kisses her forehead before reaching for her hair, parting it down the middle. “I care because you care,” he says simply, “and if talking about it will help you process, and I believe it will, then you should tell me what happened so you can put it behind you and move on.” He deftly twirls strands of her hair between his fingers before braiding them together loosely, prompting her to close her eyes as she is instantly transported to her youth.

“The bust went bad,” she finally manages when he produces a ribbon out of thin air and ties off her braid before starting on the next one. “People got hurt. _Kids_. It wasn’t my fault but it felt like my fault because it was my case, my lead, and I couldn’t protect them.”

“You’re speaking in the past tense,” Newt points out when she falls silent. “Which means you’ve already processed most of this.” He ties off the second braid before squeezing her gently. “I’m proud of you, Tina. You work so hard, and so tirelessly, and you always give your best no matter if it’s a potions smuggling ring or human trafficking you’re investigating.” She blinks away unexpected tears, and his calloused palm cradles her jaw when he tips her head upwards to kiss her forehead. “You should be proud, and you should always, _always_ take the time to mourn when things go pear-shaped. You _can_ have both.”

She looks at him in disbelief when he manages to cut right to the heart of the matter, bisecting it neatly so they can examine the relevant parts together. He smiles at her softly before taking her face between her hands. “Always with the look of surprise,” he murmurs, and she can’t help but smile when he leans in before meeting him halfway, pouring her heart and soul into the kiss.

They part naturally, noses touching with eyes closed until Newt stands and offers a hand. She allows him to help her upright and is heartened when his eyes stay firmly on her face as he taps himself with his wand. His hair dries in a tangled pouf, but she only has eyes for him when he blots her hair with the ridiculous towel before patting her shoulders dry. Her arms, chest, and legs are given the same treatment, and she is reminded _again_ of why she loves this man when he dries her nooks and crannies, neither lingering over nor neglecting them, before draping the towel over the edge of the tub and steering her toward the bed.

“Sleep,” he says in answer to her questioning hum, flicking his wand at the fireplace to start a merry blaze before pulling the blankets back. She bites her lip, eyeing his sheets and fluffy pillows before slipping between them. The bed embraces her like a hug, and the blankets are a pleasant, warm weight when he tucks her in and kisses her forehead.

He makes to move away, only for her to snag his wrist at the last minute, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “Stay with me. Please?”

Newt takes a deep breath through his nose before letting it out slowly. “Only if that’s what you want,” he concedes and lowers his eyes before squeezing her fingers. “Would you be more comfortable with pajamas, or…?

“We just took a bath together,” Tina says wryly. “I think we’re _fine_ like this.”

He smiles faintly, cheeks infusing with color. “Alright,” he concedes softly. Tina holds her breath while moving over, watching him peel back the blankets to ease beneath them. He rolls onto his side and opens his arms in invitation, and she can’t help but smile before going into them, allowing the warmth of his body, the scent of his skin, and the lingering relaxation of the bath to lull her.

“Goodnight, Tina,” he murmurs after a time, his fingers stroking lightly over her plated hair when he kisses her neck. “I love you.”

Tina smiles and closes her eyes. “I love you, too,” she murmurs, before allowing sleep to wrap around her, secure in her lovers embrace.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to Kemara for beta-reading, advice and encouragement.
> 
> Come to find me on Tumblr [@katiehavok](http://katiehavok.tumblr.com) to scream about all things _Beasts_ /Newtina related, if that's your thing.


End file.
